Monday, October 14, 2019

Day 14 - Mother Earth

14th Oct 2019

I must say the challenge is getting harder.
Day 14
I took the prompt - Mother Earth and turned it to suit me:

Exploring poetry in all its forms.

Mother of Heaven and Earth

How can it be that you are my mother
Most blessed of all creatures 
Most pure
How can it be that you care for me
You, with all the children of the world
Under your soft protection
How can it be that every little detail
Of my life is of interest to you, 
Dear mother
You, who lived an ordinary life 
But it is,,
So I come  to you, sit with you
Bring my little worries 
And the bigger ones too
And you, you take them up to the sun
Your own dear son 
Yes,  because you are the mother 
Of the creator of the entire universe
You are indeed,
Mother of Heaven and Earth

Antique Russian orthodox icon of Mother of God (Mary) and child (Jesus Christ) painted on wooden board.

Saturday, October 12, 2019

Day 13 - Hugging a tree

13th Oct 2019

Hugging a tree?

We're on Day 13 of the OctPoWriMo challenge. I'm afraid the prompt, "Hugging a Tree" didn't do anything for me today.
So, what to post instead? OK, here goes: I have tried a Loop poem today . 

Exploring poetry in all its forms.

The Wood of the Tree.

Who, I wonder cut down the tree 
from where it lived 
lived in harmony with the others
until that day 
day and night it was kept in some 
place waiting
waiting for the time it was needed
its task to perform
perform it did the most perverse deed
of all time
time was getting near, they brought 
out the man
man above all men, he did not speak 
he took it
it was the cross that Jesus embraced 
for us, with love 
love brought him to his knees three
times in fell
fell in pain and sorrow with the weight 
of our sins
sins that we now feel our own deep 
sorrow for
for as surely as we are sinners we nailed
him to that tree.  

Day 12 Black

Exploring poetry in all its forms.

Image result for pictures of dark corridors

Secret Dreams
Through the corridor - dark - long,
Doors on either side,
Each one seeking  to be opened
Hand on handle, gently press,
Push open - slowly, only a little.
Is there treasure to be found inside?
No, darkness has only shadows,
A chill recalling
Cobwebs falling,
Can’t stay here, bleak
black memories.
Try more doors
Every room the same, until, 
a seed of promise,
Light creeps, seeps,
from under one door
Slowly, softly,
hope edges forward,
Looking for joy that once it knew.
Brightness reveals
Secret dreams, unmasked,
Long hidden - radiant still.

Friday, October 11, 2019

Day 11 Silence or Noise

Exploring poetry in all its forms.

11th Oct 2019

It is day 11 of the OctPoWrimMo 2019 challenge. 
Here is my contribution:



Jesus carrying His cross.                                  Life -dark -red
 from gaping wounds,
 from skin-slashed and torn,
from forehead pierced with thorns.
Bent ,
unable to stand upright,
struggling for breath.
 with peace,
 beyond all knowing.
                                                                       He, is silent,

Thursday, October 10, 2019

Day 10 Touch

10th Oct 2019

We come to day 10 in the poetry writing month.
Nothing amazes me more than being still here. We are a third of the way there and with a bit of luck I will get to the end of October with 31 poems written and shared. 
The prompt for today is Touch and my poem is in song form with a chorus. Hope you like it.
I welcome any feedback or comments to all of my blogposts. 

Image result for pictures of dancing couples silhouettes

Enjoying the Dance                                    

Embracing, gliding, likes swans on a lake,
We took to the floor, a couple to make.
Quick stepping through galaxies, up with the stars,
Fox trotting on  Jupiter, Saturn and Mars.

And they said we could never be
Happy together, you and me.
But we’re still here, proving them wrong,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song.

At times we twirled and swayed too fast,
 Feet barely touching the ground, time passed.
Our toes would be bleeding our bodies sore,
But we carried on across the dance floor.

And they said we could never be
Happy together, you and me.
But we’re still here proving them wrong,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song.

Our dance has slowed but we still glide,
Gently moving, side by side,
Our adventure will come to an end one day,
But we’ll twirl on, we know the way.

Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Day 9 Eyes- or, What Do You See?

9th Oct 2019

Day 9 - OctPoWriMo

I'm using memories today for the prompt "Eyes".

Paris, Sacre Coeur, Church, Montmartre, Sacré Coeur


Do you remember, I know you do, that time in Paris?
Our Silver Anniversary - you said
Leave the children, let’s go, have our honeymoon – alone.
 Three days just for us! A dream.
Like teenagers we strolled by the Seine,
hand in hand, fingers softly feeling, exploring.
May blossom floating down - perfume intoxicating.
You squeezed me,
Pointed out the River Cruise boat
I nodded.
My red dress, always your favourite,
shimmered mackerel reflections.
You’d grown a beard, looked quite the artist
Eyes smiling, we spoke shared stories,
Ate a meal of mussels, our favourite,
With glass of wine - red.
My stomach danced in happy oneness with my spirit,
We talked, can you say about what? No, nor me,
It didn’t matter, just to be, that was all, together,
Drinking in our life,
You, so relaxed, your face shone,
Didn’t tell you that – years melting away – very attractive.
We climbed the steps to the Sacre Coeur,
 looked out over the city,
sky spotted with twinkling stars.
  We danced and laughed, night slipping away. 
Later we embraced, excited as if for the first time, 
but better.
Unexpected surprise, special bond made that day,
of silken gold.
 I knew it as I shivered,
not with cold.
Strengthened in desire we looked forward.
A city for lovers-Paris

Day 8 Scent

8th Oct 2019

Carrying on with the poem a day through October. 

Today's prompt is "scent".


Early May morning,
Soft new- mown downs spongy underfoot,
Shafts of yellow dancing on sea,
Cotton wool clouds dotted in blue expanse,
Slight breeze, adds salty mist
To grassy reminiscences:
I wake up in Irish cottage,
Snuggled warm in summer’s embrace,
Beside my grandmother.
Delicate, sweet smell of grass
Wafts through open window
From fields with cowpats freshly planted,
Mixes with body odour , of her-
I breathe in the perfume of a new promise,
A familiar narcotic of nurture,
Dreamlike – security, history, joy